Bristol Grammar School
She yearns to go down to the sea again
To the solace of sky and shore,
She longs for the smack of the salty wind
That would madden her like before.
She seethes for the kick of the spray and spume
And the high of its wet embrace,
And she guns for the lick of the hungry froth
As it seeps from the water’s face.
She pines for the hearth of the vagrant sun
And its rays as they dance on the waves
So she skips to the tip of the leadened cliff
To bid for the thrill she so craves.
But the purge of the current now stabs in revolt
As it glints in the deep like a knife,
And the pulse of the ebb as it steals from the bank
Fast beats down the seconds of life.
And the sky weighs down on the boundless gulfs
Whilst the seagulls savour their screams.
And she lets the depths’ charge swell in her veins
Like the blood-warm waters of dreams.
The abyss of black drops down like a shroud
On the bony-white joints of the tide,
And the whispering wind entices and beckons
To secrets no longer denied.
She sees the horizon tilting in
With a haste that she cannot save,
So she flies and cries to the lid of the sky
And kisses her watery grave.
© Isabel Murphy
- Date January 12, 2015
- Tags 2012 Voyages - Longlisted Poems